Hikage and Tsukikage
by 0LostInTranslation0
Summary: With a crush who doesn't know her name, a dead mother, an indifferent father and an arranged marriage on her shoulders, Hinata's struggling to make it through day after day. Enter Sasuke, the most popular boy at Konoha High, as her lab partner. SasuHina
1. Chapter 1

Strange: odd; queer; alienated or estranged.

Loner: a person who is alone; one who avoids the company of other people.

Wretched: pitiful; worthless; of a poor character.

Failure: to prove unsuccessful; an insufficiency; the non-performance of something due, required, or expected.

I've come to associate myself with these words over the years. They were used so many times behind my back, when no one thought I could hear. Usually it was a group of father's business partners at one of his fancy parties, or my classmates as they passed me on the way to their lockers. My father never voiced it, but whenever he happened to fix that steely gaze on me I could feel the disappointment rolling from him in waves. Hanabi, my younger sister, felt the same way; although she often had little trouble voicing her opinion of me openly for the world to hear. Most would call her horrifically rude, but she isn't. She's just blunt. She doesn't lie, either.

So whenever Hanabi calls me 'foolish' or 'pitiful' or 'shameful', I believe her.

My father has other reasons for being disappointed in me, apart from my obvious failure as being a good heir to the Hyuuga family. My mother, you see, died when I was eight. Hanabi was only four at the time, so she doesn't remember anything about her. My memory is also very vague. Sometimes I'll be doing something—stroking a blanket, or cooking something tasty for lunch—and I'll get these weird flashes; memories of her doing the same thing, with the same kind smile she always wore, or with that soft laugh that made you want to laugh along with her. I _do _remember that she was one of the nicest, most loveable people that ever lived. She was smart, too; and opinionated. She never failed to hold her own in an argument against my father, but she did it in such a sweet, kindly way that she always won. My father loved her more than the world.

I look just like her. We have the same indigo coloured hair, and the same soft facial features that differ from father's and Hanabi's sharper, more articulate cheeks and noses. My eyes—pale lavender, like father's—are wider and also less sharp; framed by my mother's long lashes.

Just looking at me is painful for him, but what really takes the cake is the fact that I'm nothing like her. I'm not smart, or opinionated, or strong-willed. People have occasionally commented that I'm a 'sweet girl', but I usually just come across as weird and shy. I'm not my mother, no matter how much I look like her. That's what _really _upsets him.

I was mulling things over as I pulled on the school uniform. Most people hated Konoha High's uniform, with its short blue skirt and long-sleeved white blouse with the logo (the simple outline of a leaf) on the shoulder and mandatory blue neckerchief. I actually liked it. It wasn't so much the actual clothing I liked, but the fact that we all wore the same thing—I was the same as everyone else. I know it sounds strange, but for someone like me who has always struggled to fit in its nice to know that for once I wasn't _different_.

As I was storing last night's homework into my bag a sleek silver car pulled up outside and the driver tooted the horn. One glance out the window told me it was Neji, my cousin, coming to pick me up for another day at school. I hastily shoved the rest of my books into my bag and ran downstairs.

"Good morning, Hinata." Neji greeted politely, a warm smile on his face. Neji looked just like my father, with silky chocolate hair and a sharp jaw, along with the trademark lavender eyes of the Hyuuga. He could also give the same ice cold look my father gave if he disliked something. He never gave me that look, though. Neji was always so kind to me, but to this day I still don't understand why.

I'm responsible for messing up his life, after all.

"Morning, Neji." I replied as I slipped into the passenger seat. Neji's car had been a present from my father for his seventeenth birthday a couple of months ago. Father didn't have any qualms with Neji, as the ridiculously expensive car clearly revealed. Yet again, Neji was a genius; a true prodigy who everyone believed should have received the title of heir to Hyuuga Industries. Everyone, including my father.

That's why Neji and I are engaged. As soon as I turn nineteen, we will be married and Neji will take his rightful place as the head of Hyuuga Industries. That is my father's way of setting things right.

And perhaps it would have worked, if Neji and I weren't already in love with other people.

"Did you finish your essay, Hinata?" Neji began in that polite way he always uses. Most people would be frustrated by his cool, borderline frosty tone; but that's just the way Neji is. It's just another thing that makes him so much better suited to be the Hyuuga heir.

"Yeah, it's all done." I answered softly, patting my bag where the 3,000-word essay was stored. I had spent most of the night on the computer, carefully putting word after word together before deleting everything and starting once more from scratch. I was never good at using words; either out loud or on paper. But finally, after many hours of trying to piece together something half decent, I had succeeded.

"Good. I am sure your father will be very pleased."

"Thanks, Neji."

Most of the trip to school was spent in relative silence, with the occasional question and comment from Neji. I didn't try to ask anything or keep the conversation flowing. I never knew what to say or when to say it, or if it was even worth saying. Words had a way of escaping my grasp. Neji understood that.

"Neji! Hinata!" Tenten, a girl with brown hair and cinnamon eyes, greeted us at the car park. She was wearing her hair in the twin buns she always sported, with her backpack slung over one shoulder.

"Hi, Tenten." I greeted with a shy smile. Neji didn't say anything. Instead he got out of the car and took the girl's hand, kissing her lightly on the cheek. Tenten blushed, her eyes full of love and adoration for the man before her.

This was the reason I was ruining Neji's life. Because of me, he only had three short years to be with the girl he loved. After that, Tenten would have to become something in the background; a shadow of the past that could never surface lest a sleazy businessman found out he loved someone other than his wife. I knew that he would try; that no matter what he would attempt to be the perfect husband, for the sake of Hyuuga industries. I also knew that despite his best efforts, after he left Tenten he would never be truly happy.

They both started walking off I hurried to catch up, sling my bag over my shoulder as I went. By now Neji and Tenten were chatting like there was no tomorrow—as though I wasn't there at all.

It happened quite often these days. As soon as they were together, everyone else disappeared, including me. They didn't mean to do it and I didn't really mind, but it _did _make me realise just how alone I truly was. I was an outsider; intruding on their happy little world. And what did they do for me? They were friendly. Neji drove me to school. Tenten talked to me during lunch. It would have been better if I didn't exist.

I mumbled a goodbye and headed to my classroom, walking down the corridors with my head down and by shoulders slumped. I hated walking down that corridor, especially since I had to do it alone. It made me feel so vulnerable, so afraid…

"There they are!"

"Where?"

"Over there!"

I still had my head down, carefully set on my toes, when I felt several of my fellow female students knocked me aside. I fell to the ground with a small 'oof', wincing when a couple more of the girls stepped on me in their haste to reach the people behind her.

"Watch it, freak!" one of the nastier ones shouted over her shoulder. Her comment suddenly made me feel very small. I could feel their eyes on me, could hear their laughter, could hear them remarking on how dumb I looked right then and there in the middle of the corridor…

"Are you okay?"

I looked up, blinking. There was no laughter, nor were there any harsh comments. Only eyes, so many eyes, staring at me; me and the hand extended toward me.

Before me stood the pinnacle of my existence; the light of each day and the pillar of hope I clung to each night before I went to sleep. His name was Naruto Uzumaki, and he came in the form of a smart, confident, _beautiful _boy; with spiky blonde hair and the most extraordinary ocean blue eyes, the kind you could get lost in if you weren't careful. His skin was tanned and the outstretched hand looked even darker compared to my own pale colouring.

_Breathe Hinata, breathe, _I kept telling myself, over and over again in a silent mantra. _Do not faint. You will not faint. You _cannot _faint. Breathe._

He was still looking at me expectantly, his eyes sparkling and perfect in his painfully handsome face. I tried to open my mouth and say something, but the words caught in my throat and I ended up choking on them like a cat on a hairball. I swallowed once, twice, and tried again.

"Y-y-yes, t-thank-y-you…"

Great. Here was my chance to appear as something more than a weird freak and I had messed it up by st-st-stuttering. Perfect. I inwardly chastised myself as my entire face heated and went a horrible shade of red.

"Here, let me help you up." Naruto went on, holding his hand out a little further. I blushed even more—if that was even possible—and timidly reached out with my own hand. With one easy movement he lifted me to my feet and I was standing, surrounded by people_ staring_…

"Sorry about that. Some people just get a bit excited, you know?" Naruto grinned and lowered his voice to a whisper. "And some girls are just plain rude and uncaring, although I don't think I should tell them that."

"T-t-thank you…" I mumbled. I didn't know what else to say.

Luckily I was saved from having to say anything more by another voice, female this time, coming from the pink-haired, emerald-eyed teen with whom I shared my History class.

"Naruto!" she snapped, hands on her hips and a scowl on her face, "What do you think you're doing?! I leave you for a second and I come back to find you flirting! Leave the poor girl alone!"

"But Sakura…" Naruto whined, "I wasn't flirting, honest! You're the only one I'd ever flirt with!"

My heart sank. Sakura's appearance had thrust me back into reality with painful force which I knew was bound to leave a bruise on my belittled heart. For just a moment I had forgotten about her completely; her and Naruto's affection for her.

Within a moment my little ball of sunshine was gone, bouncing away after Sakura as he hurried to reassure her of his undying love. With him went the pushy girls and the attention of everyone around me. My Hikage was gone and now the shock was settling in; making my heart beat too fast for my lungs. I could vaguely feel the colour drain from my face underneath the roar of blood in my ears—blood that didn't seem to quite make it to my brain.

Before I knew it, the dizziness overcame me and the darkness settled in. I fainted.

-

-

Konoha High wasn't like other schools—in fact, it couldn't be more different. It made all of those snobby colleges for the rich look like diminutive schools for the unfortunate. Konoha High's student population was strictly made of the children of the big business tycoons. To belong there, your parents had to work in gigantic buildings and suave offices, with money practically oozing out of their pores. Teens from all over the world came to Japan for the sole purpose of being educated in such a wondrous place and it wasn't unusual to see people who spoke little to no Japanese at all, walking the halls with their translators following behind them. Hyuuga Industries was one of the biggest businesses in the world, so of course Neji and I were accepted without a single qualm or disagreement.

Fitting in amongst the student body was another story. Amongst them, you had to be three things to be popular—rich, beautiful and confident. Money was no problem, of course. It was the other things, the beauty and the confidence, that I lacked. I could barely mumble my way through a complete sentence, let alone hold a decent conversation and my body lacked the usual Hyuuga beauty, which both Neji and Hanabi had been successful in receiving. And so I became the 'weird Hyuuga girl' who sat at the back of the classrooms with her sketch pad and drawing utensils, blocking out the world and replacing it with one of her own.

That was me; Hinata Hyuuga.

Strange.

Loner.

Wretched.

Failure.

Naruto Uzumaki was the exact opposite. Whereas I was a loner who shrunk away from the spotlight whenever possible, Naruto was the kind of person who seemed to shine amongst his fellow peers. He could joke and be serious to equal lengths; could talk business and sport with the same infectious enthusiasm. He was truly beautiful, yet still he was kind to those beneath him; including herself. He had them all—money, beauty and confidence.

His gleaming looks, personality and confidence earned him the nickname Hikage, or 'Sunshine'. It fit him perfectly. No one actually called him Hikage to his face—except for Sakura when she made the occasional jibe at the cheerful blonde—it was just a title used to effectively show how much higher he was in the Konoha High food chain.

I didn't even have a place on the food chain; I was that invisible to everyone. If I did, it would probably be under the title of 'weird purple-eyed freak', right at the very bottom.

"You're awake." The school nurse commented from her place in the doorway. I jumped—I'd been so lost in my thoughts that I hadn't seen or heard her approach. "Honestly Hinata-sama, I thought we'd gotten rid of these fainting spells of yours."

"Yeah," I mumbled, "So did I."

Ever since I was little, fainting had been a regular occurrence. For some reason if I was in a situation I was uncomfortable in, the ability to breathe would just kind of… leave. Like sand slipping through fingers, the more I tried to grasp at the strands of remaining function in my lungs the more they seemed to slide away until my consciousness left. My father had taken me to several doctors and psychologists, but they had no treatment to give. My fainting spells were just another imperfection that would have to be put up with.

Over the past six months, I had truly thought the problem had gone. I hadn't passed out once. Now, however, my heart sunk—it was as though I had been relieved of a heavy weight that had been hanging over my shoulders, only to have it thrown at me with a force that sent me careening backwards into my worst childhood days.

"The bell just rang for lunch, Hinata-sama," the nurse continued, "You're free to go or stay; whichever you please."

I managed a smile, even in my depressed state, and nodded. "I'd best be going. Thank you for looking after me."

"My pleasure, Hinata-sama. Take care of yourself."

I left the nurse's office with my bag in tow—I had fainted before making it to my locker—but instead of heading to the cafeteria where I usually ate with my friends, I headed to the library.

Despite the library's extensive collection of books, few chose to explore its many stories and instead preferred to spend their lunches in the rowdy cafeteria. But peace and quiet was exactly what I needed, and I couldn't help but sigh in relief when I reached my usual spot on the floor, surrounded by shelves filled with romance volumes right at the back of the library. From my bag I extracted my beloved sketch pad and a sharp lead pencil, sighing once more at the familiar feel of my pad's smooth cover.

Drawing was my anchor. When all else failed, my sketch pad would always remain, with its welcoming pages waiting for me to fill them with my drawings. Right now with all the emotions pressing on my shoulders, there was nothing I needed more than to get lost in the world of paper and pencil.

I started off lightly—first a bird in flight, then a quick sketch of my bag, followed by a scarf being tossed in the wind. But my fingers were itching to pull out the emotions raging in my heart; fighting to let them surface once and for all. So I began sketching my father; picturing the sharpness of his cheekbones and the downward turn of his lips. My hands were a little shaky as I drew the cold glare he always wore when he looked at me, but I kept going.

And as I sketched, I wished. I wished that he would look at me, just once, with the kindness he showed Hanabi and Neji. I wished that it was pride that shone in those lavender eyes instead of disapproval. I wished I could be the daughter he wanted, rather than the failure I had turned out to be.

The bell rang before I could finish the drawing. It made me jump—I'd been so absorbed in my art that I hadn't even noticed the time. I sighed and hastily packed my things away, letting the weight fall back onto my shoulders the way it always did when reality settled in.

-

-

I had Chemistry after lunch.

I hated Chemistry. I hated the experiments, where the slightest mistake could render your assignment ruined beyond compare. I hated all the different names and formulas you had to memorise; the ones I could never remember. I especially hated the teacher, Deidara-sensei.

"There is nothing as beautiful as Chemistry," he would proclaim each lesson, "It is the art of all arts—the construction and destruction of everything! It is not art if it doesn't go off with a _bang_!"

This was usually followed by a list of notable explosions Deidara-sensei was especially fond of—the 1988 PEPCON disaster, the 1944 Port Chicago disaster, the 1944 Bombay explosion, etc. I never listened. All I could think about was how wrong he was; about art. Art was beautiful. It was sleek and graceful, yet at the same time it could be powerful and aggressive. Art shone with emotion. Chemistry didn't shine at all.

"This project will take up 25% of your grade," he was saying, "I'll assign you partners… yeah, and you'll all be in girl/boy groups, yeah."

All around me I could hear girls whispering excitedly, all of them sitting up a little straighter in their chairs. My heart sunk. Girl/boy partners? I could barely converse with someone from my own gender. How was I supposed to even look my partner in the eye?

I could see why the girls were excited, of course. After all, Tsukikage was in this class. Which girl wouldn't kill to have such a handsome, popular lab partner?

Me; that's who.

Deidara-sensei's voice droned on, listing off partners with the occasional clearing of the throat and muttered 'yeah'. I could hear sighs of disappointment coming from all the girls as, one by one, they realised that their partner wasn't Tsukikage. I looked around the room at the remaining unpaired students. My only friend in this class was Ino Yamanaka, and she had been paired with a short American boy who, as far as I could tell, could speak next to no Japanese at all. She and I locked eyes for a moment and she pulled a face. I winced in sympathy.

"…Hinata Hyuuga…" Deidara-sensei read out and I turned to face him once more; tense as I awaited my partner to be announced.

"And Sasuke Uchiha."

Great. Of all the people in the room, I had to get paired up with Tsukikage.


	2. Introducing Tsukikage

Err... hi...?

So I didn't really write anything in the first chapter... figured you guys would want to actually read the story a bit first. Basically this is my first SasuHina fic... so please be nice lol.

Enjoy xx

* * *

Hikage and Tsukikage. Sunshine and Moonlight.

Naruto Uzumaki and Sasuke Uchiha.

I've already explained Naruto—what with his shining looks and gleaming personality. Now, I suppose, it's Sasuke's turn.

If Naruto was the sun, then Sasuke would definitely be the moon. All you had to do was look at the two of them to gauge their personalities. Whereas Naruto was tanned brown from the sun, Sasuke's skin was pale to the point it gleamed white. Naruto's hair was blonde and messy, but Sasuke's was black, long and silky. And while Naruto's eye's sparkled gorgeous blue, Sasuke's were a strange onyx—so dark that unless you squinted, you couldn't see where the irises ended and the pupils began.

But their differences didn't end with their looks. Their personalities were like chalk and cheese—completely and utterly unalike. Naruto, I had always thought, was a kind of prince charming. He was the hero; always there to pick you up when you were down and set a smile on your face whatever the situation.

Sasuke was the handsome dark stranger, I suppose. His fangirls seemed to think of him as some kind of romancer who would seduce you with his suave voice and charming smirk.

That's what they thought, anyway.

I, on the other hand, thought he looked like the kind of guy who would drag you into a dark alleyway and pummel you if you tried to talk to him. Then he'd probably leave you for dead; just walking away with the same nonchalant expression he always wore.

So you can probably see why I _wasn't _looking forward to this project.

I rose from my seat and slowly made my way to the front of the room to collect my beakers and other utensils. Although I kept my eyes trained carefully on the equipment in front of me, I couldn't help but feel the weight of the stare of every girl in that classroom. It was enough to make me feel queasy.

Almost all of the girls in this Chemistry class had signed up so that they could be closer to Sasuke. They were all Tsukikage fangirls. They would _kill _to have the position as Sasuke's lab partner. The fact that I, a timid little freak of a girl with all the beauty of a mouldy sponge, had gained that position was like being thrown a blood-covered animal's carcass while in the midst of a group of savage, hungry lions.

I swallowed. There was no way I was getting out of this alive.

Sasuke was already standing at a lab bench against one of the walls, leaning against it casually with one foot propped against it, his hands in his pockets. Even through the pressure of all the girls' glares, his was the worst. It seemed to burn through my skull with all the painful force of a red-hot poker. I nearly dropped the beaker I was holding; I was that scared.

I didn't talk to him and he certainly had no wish of talking to me, so I silently began the assignment on my own. I looked down at the task sheet Deidara-sensei had passed around and carefully read the instructions. I couldn't mess up; not now, with Sasuke glaring holes into the back of my head and practically every girl in the class waiting for me to make the slightest mistake so they could mock me.

According to the instructions, the beaker I held contained three different solids—sand, salt and iron filings. Our job (or my job, I suppose, as Sasuke wasn't actually doing anything) was to go through the process of extracting each solid and placing it in its own smaller beaker for us (by that I mean me) to weigh.

I took a glance across the room at Ino, who made no method to hide her exasperation with her American partner. Apparently he thought that his Japanese was good enough for him to attend lessons without a translator.

According to Ino's expression, he was wrong.

Deidara-sensei had hinted that we would have to remove the iron filings first, so I looked amongst my gathered utensils for something that would serve to extract them. The small rectangular magnet immediately caught my eye.

I was feeling a little elated, really; for I actually had the feeling that I could _pass _on this project. Considering how bad I was at Chemistry, that was definitely a good thing.

"You're not going to just put the magnet in like that, are you?"

It was Sasuke who spoke, and his voice startled me so much I nearly dropped the magnet into the solution. Disapproval and malice dripped from every word like poison. It was the same scornful voice my father used when I made a mistake.

I _hated _that tone.

"U-u-umm…" I stuttered, unsure of how to answer. I _had _actually planned to do exactly what he suggested—simply dropping the magnet into the solution to retrieve the iron filings. I had felt so proud of myself before. Now I felt like a failure again.

Sasuke muttered something that sounded suspiciously like a profanity before swiftly reaching out and snatching the magnet from my trembling fingers.

"I… I'm s-sorry…" I murmured.

There was no reply. When I took a glance in his direction I realised that he was already gone.

_Please, tell me no one saw that… _I begged. But of course, all of Sasuke's fangirls just had. I could hear the couple nearest to me sniggering and a few more were whispering to each other; saying nothing good, I could only assume.

"No!" Ino shouted suddenly, "Beaker! _Bee-kerr… _not magnet!"

I sighed. At least I wasn't the only one suffering.

Sasuke returned with a reasonable-sized piece of gladwrap and twisted it once around the magnet. Then he carefully lowered it into the beaker, allowing the small flakes of iron to stick themselves to the gladwrap. When a large amount of filings had been collected he gently tapped the magnet against the beaker to get rid of any sand or salt clinging to the iron and transferred it to a smaller beaker. With one easy movement the gladwrap was off and the filings dropped into the beaker, leaving the gladwrap and magnet free of iron.

I watched him repeat the process, unsure of what to do, when he turned and fixed her with his cold glare.

"You might as well make yourself useful. Set up the retort stand and go and get some filter paper."

"Okay…" I mumbled as I hastily obeyed. Setting up filter paper was something I could actually do, thank goodness. I grabbed a circular piece and, folding it carefully, placed it in the plastic funnel Deidara-sensei had issued us with; adding a couple of drops of distilled water to make the paper stick.

By the time I had finished, Sasuke had removed all of the iron filings and was waiting for me, looking less than pleased. He made no move to appreciate my efforts of _trying _to be helpful; not that I had expected him to. Instead he shoved the beaker of iron filings into my hands and pointed in the direction of the scales. Wordlessly I did as I was 'told', if you could call it that.

The lesson continued in much the same way. Sasuke poured distilled water into the remaining solution and then tipped the entire solution into the filter paper, where the water and dissolved salt dripped into a beaker underneath the suspended retort stand while the sand remained in the filter paper. The process took a very long time where both of us had nothing to do, so rather than standing near the proclaimed Tsukikage and risking evoking his wrath, I went to my own seat and wrote out the experiment.

Sasuke and I weren't really strangers. Our parents both ran two of the most important businesses in the world. Our families were rivals, to some extent; although in the business world, as I had found out, _everyone _was a rival to be respected and even feared.

Since both of our family businesses were of an equal balance, our families attended the same meetings and parties. Still, we hardly talked at all. Usually it was a polite nod of the head, a short greeting, and then we would head off in our different directions. We always seemed to be on the opposite sides of the room during such events.

Our mixture was still filtering by the end of lesson, so I placed our retort stand and beaker inside the equipment room with our names written on a piece of paper beside it. A girl tried to trip me up on the way in and I stumbled, nearly tripping and spilling our experiment all over the floor. Then I felt a warm hand grabbing at my arm; keeping me upright. Somehow, I managed to keep the experiment upright.

"S-sorry…" the girl stuttered before running from the room. I blinked in surprise, then slowly turned to give my thanks to whoever has saved me…

…Only to be greeted by the frosty eyes of Sasuke Uchiha.

"T-t-thanks." I stammered, immediately turning my gaze away from his eyes and onto the floor.

Sasuke only grunted and took the project from my trembling fingers, placing it himself in the equipment room himself.

"Try not to ruin this project," he told me in a low, threatening voice, "Because if my grades go down because of some _rat _like you, I will make your pathetic life all the more miserable."

Then he walked back out into the classroom, leaving me shaking like a leaf with cold shivers running up and down my spine.

-

-

"Hey, Hinata!" Ino greeted with her usual cheeriness after class.

"Hey." I mumbled in reply.

Ino was gorgeous. There was no other way to describe it. Everywhere she went, there was always at least one pair of male eyes following her down the halls. It was a little creepy, really; but that was the price she paid for being beautiful. What with all that beauty, pride and confidence; she was my exact opposite.

"I can't _believe _I got paired with Eric Turnbull," she continued, her hands balled into fists at her sides. "Honestly, what was Deidara-sensei _thinking_?! I bet that homo gets kicks out of making us suffer!"

By that time Ino's voice had risen considerably and people were beginning to stare at us. I blushed and kept my eyes trained on the floor.

"Ino, you're making a scene…" I told her softly.

"Oh… oops." Ino looked around sheepishly, her cheeks turning a faint pink. Ino had a way of looking stylish, even in the midst of great embarrassment. She could recover quickly too, like she did now; slinging one arm over my shoulder with a grin that showed off her perfect white teeth.

"Anyway, enough about me. How was it being paired up with the hottest guy in school?" she teased.

At the mention of Sasuke my face turned hot and I looked away, focusing on the small crease in my sleeve. I could still hear those cold words echoing in my head; each like a small stone being thrown again and again against my skull.

Ino had once been one of Sasuke's fangirls. She had followed him relentlessly during lunch breaks, had taped photos of him inside her locker, had written 'Mrs. Ino Uchiha' over and over again inside her exercise books. Ino and I hadn't been friends at that stage and I had often kept well out of her way; terribly afraid of inflicting her wrath.

Then, during the holidays, she met Shikamaru Nara.

Shikamaru was the laziest person I knew. We sat together during our lunch breaks and often enough about 5 minutes into the break he would be asleep, his head resting on the cafeteria table. He was renowned for his pineapple-shaped hair, which stood in a black mass of spikes almost perfectly straight in the air. You wouldn't know it from looking at him, but he was also the smartest person in our grade. Shikamaru was a genius. If you had a problem, whether it was to do with homework or a social crisis, he could always be trusted to come up with a logical solution—providing he stayed awake, of course.

I'm not sure how he managed to capture Ino's heart, but they somehow went from being in completely opposite cliques and having nothing to do with each other to being practically inseparable. I'm not saying they didn't fight—Ino was the kind of person who could find an argument in everything—but they always made up afterwards, and they never held grudges against one another.

It was strange to think about how much she had changed. If I had been lab partners with Sasuke a year ago she wouldn't have been glaring at me like those other fangirls. She would have been cornering me in a dark alley on my way home; threatening me with a knife or something along those lines.

"It was… okay." I told her lamely. "It could have been worse."

"Which means that it could have been better."

I gave a small shrug and blushed. There wasn't any point in denying it. Ino would have probably been more suspicious if I told her working with Sasuke had been nice. Yes… that would have _definitely _made her suspicious.

"Well, whatever. Tenten and I are going out for pizza after school… do you want to come?"

I hesitated. If there was one thing I _hated_, it was the guilt I felt when I looked into those hopeful blue eyes only to decline her request. Why did she even bother any more? I mean, it wasn't as though she actually wanted me to go. I was just someone who she asked out of pity. Neji and Tenten had done the same thing when they first started dating—always inviting me along, always with that same barely concealed hope in their eyes. It wasn't hope that I would agree to join them. It was hope that I _wouldn't_; that I would decline and leave them with their privacy. And so I always gave the same excuse, as I did now for Ino.

"Ino, I can't. My father is so strict… he would never approve."

Ino's eyes narrowed and she blew her bangs from her eyes in an obvious show of frustration. "Honestly, Hinata! Is your dad _trying _to keep you caged up? Because he's succeeding! How are you supposed to have _fun_?"

I stayed silent. It was the best choice for someone like me, whose mouth had trouble forming coherent sentences properly. Besides, sometimes Ino just needed to get all of the complaints out of her system.

"…And I don't get why you obey him all the time! I mean, isn't this supposed to be a free country? Everyone has their rights and all that stuff? Whatever happened to _that_?! You can't treat women like dirt any more! It's just not on!"

Once again Ino's voice was rising in volume. People were looking at us, but I didn't bother to shush her. That would only be adding fuel to the fire.

"Why don't you jump out your window or something? Seriously; you could come and hang out and your dad would never know! It's not like we're going to get drunk and start smoking pot or anything… it's just pizza!"

We had reached our lockers now and I tried to ask her what homework the teachers had given us while I was in the sick bay. Ino pretended not to hear me.

"Honestly Hinata, just do something for yourself once in a while. Don't let your father run your life. Just… _rebel_. You know?"

I nodded. Ino, seemingly satisfied, gave me a list of the subjects we had homework in and what pages I was to read in my text books. Then she bounced off to her home room.

-

-

Our house had never been the same since my mother's death. The cold aura of sorrow seemed permanently etched into the walls and if you stood too still for too long in one place, the eerie chill was enough to send shivers down your spine.

Yet despite the despair seeping from its core, I still preferred spending my time locked inside our house rather than out with friends.

It wasn't so much of a preference, I suppose. I just struggled to fit in with everyone else. When I was younger, I couldn't pronounce a single sentence without stammering. I was better now—only stammering when I had to talk to someone intimidating like Sasuke, or someone I felt strongly about, like Naruto. But even though I was better than before, my people skills were practically nothing compared to everyone else's.

Here, locked in my room, people skills meant nothing. It didn't matter that I was unpopular, or unable to talk to the boy I loved, or that my father hadn't held a proper conversation with me since I was nine. Here, I could just… let myself go.

For me, letting myself go meant retrieving my pencils and paper from my bag and drawing. It didn't matter what shapes were formed, or what I was creating. Just as long as I let it all out.

Everywhere I looked, sketches were scattered across every possible surface. There were ones of my father, my sister, my friends. There was one of my mother that I had drawn looking from an old photograph. Birds, hands, flowers, pianos and even teapots had been created and shoved into the crevices of my room—not forgotten, but not exactly remembered. Much like myself amongst my peers, I suppose.

Oh, the irony.

Toda however, when I extracted my pencils and paper from my school bag, a different face etched its way into my sketch pad. The strong jaw appeared first; closely followed by roughly drawn bangs falling softly at either side of the face. The lips were thin and taut in an expression of unmistakable disdain. But it wasn't until I finished shading the deep, empty eyes of obsidian that could only belong to one person that I realised who it was.

Sasuke Uchiha.

Tsukikage.

_My lab partner._

The shock left me frozen for a while; unable to move or even think as I stared at the familiar yet altogether foreign black eyes. Even drawn on paper, they seemed to glare at me with the same amount of malice they held earlier during Chemistry.

I'm not sure how long I sat there; pencil still in hand, mind whirring with a thousand thoughts at once. I didn't know what to do. My first thought was to simply rip out the page and throw it in the bin. No one would know except, of course, for me and the memory would eventually fade into nothing. That would definitely be the smarter option.

But the thing is, I don't like throwing away pictures. That was why my room was overflowing with sketches—I simply didn't have the heart to get rid of them. Each and every one of them represented a different part of my life. Not all of them were happy memories, but they were all important. Or they were important to me, anyway.

Before I could make a decision there was a knock on the door and I hastily shoved the picture underneath my bed. "Come in!" I called out.

Hanabi opened the door; her sharp eyes piercing through me in a way that made me believe she could read my thoughts. The very idea made me blush with shame.

"Dinner is ready." She said coolly, oblivious to my inner guilt.

"Okay… I'll be down in a second."

I stood up and walked over to the door, hesitating as my hand grasped the knob. My eyes turned back to the paper, which seemed to glow like the brightest of beacons despite its hiding place underneath my bed.

_I'll throw it out after dinner, _I decided. Then I opened the door and left, allowing all of the day's events to simply drift from my mind like water from the bathroom tap.

* * *

Your thoughts so far...? :)


	3. NotSoSweet Kisses

I am soooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo **SORRY**!!

It's been so long since I've updated! I can't believe it!

I WAS 15 THE LAST TIME I UPDATED!! GARRR!!

But yes, I hope you enjoy this chapter. The next one WILL be quicker :)

* * *

It was official.

The entire school—every single last female component—knew of my place as Tsukikage's lab partner. The eyes followed me everywhere I went, as did the patronising whispers. Some didn't even bother to lower their voices as I passed; not caring if I heard their brazen insults. And why should they? I wasn't anyone special.

Ino, as always, was very supportive and had taken the role of my watchdog—basically, this entailed following me everywhere I went to ensure I didn't get attacked by rogue fangirls. My other friends, Shino and Kiba, also came to my aid whenever it was required and I found myself relieved that they were both male, for neither of them worshipped Sasuke and thus had no qualms against me. I felt safe beneath their protective endeavours, despite the fact that it was only the four of us facing practically the entire Konoha High female population.

However, despite their efforts, it was impossible to keep me safe all the time. My Art lessons, for example, were taken alone; a feat that I usually found bearable simply because I shared it with Naruto. But Naruto was not there, and the hatred burned so hot and thick that I could almost see the air wavering with its evil vibes before my very eyes. More than once people bumped into me as I sketched, intent on sabotaging my drawing. I bore it with practiced patience; erasing any of the squiggles caused by a well-aimed shoulder bumping my drawing hand, making sure not to make eye contact with anyone in case they took offence.

My misery only grew after the lesson, for while I was gathering my books from my locker Karin approached me with a face so serious it could have made a kookaburra stop laughing (**A/N: sorry I can't think of any other similes at the moment…there's a kookaburra outside our house at right now and it's getting kind of annoying…**). Without a word she grabbed me by the collar and slammed me against the wall. I winced; the rough brick chafing painfully against my back.

"Well, well; what do we have here?" Karin sneered, her eyes glinting sinisterly behind her glasses, "The little arty freak with the white eyes, thinking she can take my man."

"B-b-but I… I d-d-d-don't… I… I h-haven't…" I stammered and stuttered; my fear rendering me incapable of forming a complete sentence.

"SHUT UP!!"

One of the hands freed my collar and yanked my books from my chest, scattering them across the floor in a sea of paper and messy scrawl. Karin didn't pay any attention—her cold, unrelenting eyes still fixed on mine.

"Word of advice, Hyuuga," she hissed; "You touch Sasuke and your head is mine. _Mine_. The last person who got in my way ended up with a shaved head and some broken limbs. Is that what you want?" her hand trailed down my hair until, without warning, she grabbed it and swung me onto the floor. I landed with a generous thump beside my books.

"Goodbye, Hyuuga."

-

-

Needless to say, I was not looking forward to our Chemistry lesson. I unwillingly dragged my feet into the lab and took my stead beside Sasuke, who had already set up a Bunsen burner and was stirring our salt water solution in a small evaporation dish.

"Scrape the sand out of the filtering paper." He said in the usual monotone. I started at the sound of his voice and hastily grabbed said filter paper and the small beaker beside it. The scratch of spatula against paper and the clack of stirring rod against dish did little to fill the stifling silence surrounding the room.

To my shock, Sasuke was the first to break it.

"You haven't jumped me yet."

I turned to stare wide-eyed at him for a moment, but upon meeting his steely obsidian gaze I quickly turned away again.

"Most—no, scratch that; _all _the girls in this room—would have attacked me at the first opportunity they got."

I remained silent. What was I supposed to say? Was I supposed to defend the female gender; to tell him there were girls out there who would puke at the idea of attacking him with hugs and kisses and Valentine's Day chocolates? Because although I would have liked to have rooted for them, although he sounded arrogant and cocky and completely full of himself, and although it might have put me back in Karin's good graces… I knew that what he said was true. If Sasuke had announced that the first girl to hug him would get the opportunity to go on a date with him, the only two girls in this room who wouldn't gladly charge him would be Ino and myself.

"_You_, on the other hand, haven't even talked to me; apart from the occasional st-st-stutter."

My face turned red with shame. Not for the first time, melting into the floor sounded like a really, _really _good idea.

A hand rested on my shoulder and I reflexively flinched away from the contact, my legs making hard contact with the bench behind me. If I hadn't been blushing before I certainly was now—my face felt like it was on fire.

Sasuke snorted. "As I thought; you won't even let me touch you. How strange."

Deciding that returning to the project was the safest option, I began scraping out the remaining salt from the filter paper. The tink of rod against beaker told me Sasuke had done the same.

However, Sasuke was by no means done with his musings.

"I've been thinking about your reactions and have decided on a couple of theories," he continued, "The first of which is that you are indeed a fangirl—that you are just waiting for the right opportunity to knock me unconscious and drag me into some dark, grimy alley somewhere."

I suppressed a snort of laughter. The very idea of me dragging _anyone _down a dark, grimy alley struck me as hilarious.

"My second theory is that you think by acting all shy and innocent, I'll fall in love with you and after confessing my undying affections we'll have a passionate make-out session on the laboratory floor."

_Passionate make-out session?_

At first I thought he was kidding, but one look at his piercing onyx eyes told me otherwise.

"No? I suppose that leaves my last theory—that you are already in love with someone else."

I blushed and I paused; my still spatula-holding hand hovering in midair. _No! No, no, no, no, NO, NO, NOOOOO!!!_

Sasuke's face, which until that moment had been nonchalant, now appeared smug. "Ah, I see. A Hikage fan, are we?"

At the word Hikage my face became even redder. I sucked in a deep breath in an attempt to calm myself down.

"So have you told Naruto yet?"

My eyes closed briefly.

"I take that as a no. I would be happy to tell him for you."

"N-n-no! P-please don't!" I whispered.

Sasuke's eyebrow rose questioningly.

"P-p-please don't t-tell him. I… I don't want… that is I… he c-can't… he w-w-w-won't…"

"Afraid of rejection are we?"

"N-n-no!!!"

"Of course not," Sasuke drawled sarcastically, "But I wonder… how far are you willing to go to make sure your precious Naruto doesn't find out your little secret?"

_Anything. I'd do anything. _

I didn't say that, of course. To Sasuke, genius as he was, it must have been pretty obvious already.

Suddenly my hand, which was still holding the small metal spatula, was covered in another much larger grasp. I gasped and reflexively dropped the instrument—it fell with an overly loud clatter.

And suddenly, out of the blue, his face was right there in front of my own; his obsidian eyes impossible to read, as per usual. Our noses were almost touching and I could feel his breath on my skin, warm and moist.

Sasuke had always been like a walking, talking, living block of ice—what with his frosty attitude and the chilling looks that sent shivers down your spine. In that way the name Tsukikage truly suited him, for what place was colder than the moon?

But right at that moment, with our faces bare inches from each other, breathing in each other's scents—which to be honest wasn't all that terrible, for Sasuke didn't smell half bad—was how incredibly _warm _he was.

"A kiss," he whispered in my ear, "One kiss, right now, and I forget that we ever had any conversation. Naruto will never hear a word."

I think my heart stopped beating for a moment, but not in a good way. It wasn't an of-course-I'll-kiss-you-Sasuke-love-of-my-life-take-me-in-your-arms-and-never-let-go kind of feeling. It was more of a what-do-I-do-what-do-I-do-WHAT-DO-I-DO kind of feeling. With growing confusion and dread I looked over in Ino's direction, hoping for some advice. Alas, I had no such luck—she looked as confused as I felt.

There were an awful lot of confused gazes, actually; although they were far outnumbered by the amount of spiteful glares, filling the atmosphere with so much hatred that I nearly choked. It appeared that our conversation had not gone without an audience. I just hoped that they hadn't heard the bit about Naruto…

If I accepted his offer and kissed him, then I would be subjecting myself to complete humiliation and agonising torture for years and years to come—especially from the girls. On the other hand, if I refused, Sasuke would tell Naruto. That, I decided, would be far more humiliating than any kiss, no matter who was receiving it.

"Well?" Sasuke demanded; his voice still low, but now with a slight impatience about it.

I sucked in a deep breath and closed my eyes, trying to forget the students watching our every move. Then, with Naruto's smiling face hovering in my mind, I leant forward and pressed my lips to Sasuke's in a quick peck.

Or at least, it was _supposed _to be a quick peck.

Sasuke, it seemed, had different ideas. Before I could move away his left hand grabbed me around the waist, pushing me against his body until I was nearly crushed against his stone hard chest. His other hand was at my jaw, keeping my lips secured to his in a way that turned our chaste kiss into something much longer.

His lips moved against mine with a fierce power; easily taking dominance over my own passive mouth. And all of a sudden his tongue was there, exploring every contour of my mouth in a way that would make any girl weak in the knees. I could feel myself growing fainter and fainter as my brain received less and less oxygen—a sure sign that I was just shy of total unconsciousness. Still, his grip did not weaken.

It scared me. The dominance, the raw power, the authority he forced into that kiss—it surpassed my own the same way a cheetah bet a snail in a 100m sprint. It was terrifying.

But even more terrifying was the fact that after the initial shock had worn off, my mouth seemed to gain a mind of its own. Suddenly Sasuke was kissing me… _and I was kissing back_.

_What on earth was going on?!_

I blame what happened next entirely on instinct. I, Hinata Hyuuga, would never purposely raise my hand to attack _anyone_. I simply couldn't bring myself to do it. The thought of causing someone pain… it made me sick in the stomach.

And yet that was exactly what I did.

I slapped Sasuke.

I, Hinata Hyuuga, _slapped _Sasuke Uchiha.

Slapped, straight across the face.

No sooner had my hand struck his cheek then a collective gasp rose from the people watching us. Shrieking fangirls soon rushed to their Tsukikage's aid; gushing over him as though he had just plunged into an alligator-filled swimming pool. I recognised Karin as one of them; her spiky red hair standing out easily in the sea of blonde, brown and black. As I watched she turned and sent me a glare that chilled me to the bone. Her mouth moved silently to form four syllables; four that by no means I had to be told:

_You are so dead._

-

-

(**A/N: I thought about leaving it there, but I figure that I owed you guys for not updating quicker so… hope you enjoy :)**)

-

-

"Are you okay?" Ino asked for the umpteenth time.

"Yeah, I'm fine." I lied softly. My heart was still racing from the episode in Chemistry and I was struggling to get my breath back, but there was no point in worrying Ino about little things like that.

"Because you know… that was totally AWESOME!!"

I managed a weak smile at my beaming friend. "Thanks, Ino."

"Wait until the guys hear this! They are going to flip! I mean seriously… I can't believe it… _you slapped Sasuke Uchiha across the face!!_"

"Yeah…" my voice had faded to a whisper.

A girl shoved past me, her bag swinging and very nearly hitting me in the face. Pure distaste emanated from her like overly thick perfume as she turned back to glare at me briefly.

"Sorry." She chirped in a high, fake staccato that told me she wasn't sorry at all.

I bit my lip to hide the pain her comment drew from me.

Ino muttered a couple of choice swear words at the girl's retreating figure. "Lousy fangirls… there's just no way to please them. You do one thing and they hate you, so then you do the total opposite and they hate you even more!"

The truth in Ino's statement only made me more depressed.

We entered the cafeteria along with a wave of students, so we didn't have to worry about being seen by all of the gossipers. I wondered how many people knew. It hadn't even been ten minutes since Chemistry had ended, but it wouldn't surprise me if the girls had already managed to pass their information onto their friends.

Our table was in the far corner of the room. Although this meant more walking, it was quieter and less rowdy than the rest of the cafeteria. The closest table to us was occupied by a group of Goths, who may have seemed scary, but were strangely polite and kept to themselves.

I hadn't come to the cafeteria very often that week. What with depression over my engagement with Neji, my fainting spell with Naruto, my father's practical disownment and the ever growing homework load all pushing down on my shoulders I hadn't had the motivation to come out to the cafeteria at lunch. Instead I chose to sit in the library, where I could sit in silence and allow my feelings to work their way onto paper. I never brought my sketch pad out to the cafeteria—although we sat in the quietest region of the room, there was still a chance of a food fight resulting in food spattering my artwork, or even worse; my friends seeing my sketches. My sketch pad was like a diary; its content was only meant for my eyes.

"Hey, guys." Ino greeted cheerily as she sank into the seat beside Shikamaru, planting a small kiss on his cheek. He returned the notion with a lazy smile.

"Hinata, Ino." Shino greeted in his deep baritone, the light bouncing crazily off of his dark glasses. He had owned those round, dark lenses since he first moved to Konoha High the previous year and to my knowledge no one had ever seen him take them off. What lay beneath was a complete mystery.

That pretty much summed up Shino—he was a mystery. His mother and Kiba's mother were friends and so they had known each other long before school had started, but apart from that I knew little about his family or where he had come from. He didn't speak much and wasn't very into socialising, although Kiba made a constant effort to drag him around town on Friday nights. People made a habit of judging him by his strange glasses and even stranger hairstyle, so they rarely got to see the softer, friendlier side I knew.

"Hinata! Ino! How was Chemistry?" Kiba asked with a grin; the double meaning clear behind his words.

"Let's just say that it was very… _eventful_." Ino stated with a chuckle. I blushed.

Kiba had been my friend since my sixth day of kindergarten. He had been the only one friendly enough to approach the white-eyed freak sitting alone in the sandbox. Together they had built a beautiful sandcastle; taller than any she had ever built before, with a moat and even a small flag on top. It had been wonderful… until one of the bullies went and stomped all over it. Kiba had punched and kicked and scratched the kid until the teacher came and, assuming Kiba was the one at fault, sentenced him to fifteen minutes in the Naughty Chair. After that we played together every day—the Inuzukas became my second family. Hana, Kiba's sister, treated me like a daughter and constantly looked after me. Sometimes I even thought I was closer to Hana than Kiba was and for that I felt guilty, but neither of the siblings showed any displeasure over my constant appearances at their house.

Six months after my mother died I got my first period. It scared me half to death—as, I suppose, most periods do. I had absolutely no idea what to do and for the first few days I worried that I was dying. But who was I supposed to talk to? My father was still grieving over his lost wife… I doubted Hanabi would know the answer… and Neji was a _definite _no-no. In the end it was Hana I told; Hana who explained what a period was and that no; I most definitely was not going to die. Hana stayed extremely close to me that week and I think Kiba grew quite suspicious about our constant private 'girl talks', but he never asked for any details.

I didn't see Hana very often any more, which was upsetting—my father had forbidden me to go to their house, for they were a family of lower class and it was considered 'improper' to have a young lady such as myself sleeping at a young man's—like Kiba's—house.

"What happened?" Shikamaru asked, for once allowing his curiosity overcome his laziness.

"Well, we were all set up and working away when Sasuke starts talking to Hinata—well, I don't exactly know what he was saying, but we were all a bit shocked because of course, Sasuke _never _talks, but he was having this huge conversation! And then he-"

"Ahem."

Abruptly we all turned to see a blonde-haired teen standing with her hand on her hips, watching us with a faint hint of amusement. Everything about her seemed to scream 'rebel', from the soles of her knee-high combat boots, to the fishnet gloves covering her fingers, to the strange hairdo her sandy blonde hair sported—four spiky pigtails; two on either side of her head.

"Mind if I sit here?" she asked sweetly. The five of us blinked blankly at her.

Ino was the first to recover. She grinned welcomingly at the newcomer. "Sure, have a seat! I'm Ino Yamanaka."

"Temari; Temari Sabaku." Said girl shook Ino's outstretched hand and sat down on Shikamaru's other side. "Whew, this school sure is a tough nut to crack; soon as they hear you're daddy isn't a bajillionaire and doesn't own a fleet of yachts that want nothing to do with ya!"

"I'm guessing you're on scholarship?" Kiba asked.

"Sure am; me and my two brothers." Temari nodded towards the Goths sitting beside us. "See the red-head sitting with them? That's Gaara. He's a year younger than me, but he got brought up a year because he has major smarts. I'm not too sure where Kankuro is… probably perving on the cheerleaders." At this she rolled her eyes, shaking her head with a small sigh.

"What class do you have next, Temari?" Ino wanted to know.

"English. I don't suppose any of you guys are in that class?"

"I am." Shikamaru said, bored as usual.

Temari grinned. "Ah! Just as I was thinking I'd have to sit this one alone."

The others continued to chatter away as Hinata nibbled at her bento, not really concentrating on the conversation at hand. It was as Temari began describing her old school, Sunagakure High, when she realized that something was wrong. It was too quiet—far too quiet for comfort. Not complete silence, of course; that would have been freaky. It was just… not rowdy enough for a usual lunch time in the cafeteria. All eyes were focused on us.

Or at least, they were focused on the figure walking towards our table.

_No… _I pleaded silently, _No… please no, no, no, no, NO!!!_

Sasuke Uchiha approached, his face nonchalant as usual—only now he was sporting a slight bruise on his left cheek. And now he was heading straight for us.

Or, more specifically, straight for _me_.

"Are you serious? I wish our school taught cool classes like Drama!" Kiba said wistfully. "Konoha High teaches all the bor…ing… sub…jects…" his voice slowed as his eyes fell on Sasuke until eventually he came to a total halt, his expression overly confused.

He wasn't the only one.

Unlike Temari, Sasuke didn't wait for an invitation. Without pausing he sat himself down in the seat beside me, his onyx eyes scanning each face before resting on my own. They lingered there, unmoving; as though they could reach into my very soul.

"Hinata." He greeted simply.

I nodded in acknowledgement. Speaking had been rendered completely impossible by shock and more than a little fear.

"So…" Ino cleared her throat, trying to keep the atmosphere relaxed, "Do you know much about English, Temari? Because to be completely honest, I suck at it."

Temari laughed. Sasuke's presence hadn't bothered her at all—and of course it hadn't, for she had no idea who he was. "Really, it isn't all that bad."

"Maybe not for you, but for me it's like adding two and two and getting twenty six thousand!"

The rest of lunch passed in much the same way; the majority of us sitting in awkward silence while Ino fought to bypass the tension with a constant stream of chatter. I would have applauded her efforts if my hands weren't shaking due to Sasuke's proximity.

I had never been so glad to hear the bell ring.

-

-

"Did you have a good day today, Hinata?" Neji asked as we slid into his car.

"Yes thank you, Neji." I mumbled in reply.

"Good."

As we drove off I caught sight of Sasuke. He was walked along the pathway with Naruto and Sakura; both friends laughing and smiling while his face remained completely passive. As we passed them his eyes flashed in my direction. I quickly hid beneath the dashboard.

"Are you alright, Hinata?" Neji asked. His expression was bewildered and more than a little freaked out.

"Y-yeah, I'm fine," I replied with a nervous laugh, "Just a lost earring."

His gaze moved to my ears which, I realized, were not pierced. "I see."

"N-not _my _earrings! I-Ino's!" I said hastily.

"Ah."

I sank back into the smooth leather, giving a small sigh as I tried to relax.

_It's over, _I told myself, _You made it through the day. Be happy._

But I couldn't be happy.

Because deep down, I knew that the torture was far from over.

* * *

DUM DUM DUM DUUUUM!!

Sorry if this chapter seemed like it was written differently than the last... it's been a looooong time since I last updated and I'm reading lots of different stuff than what I was reading when I first started writing this story. I find that what I'm reading effects my writing technique. :)

R and R please!!

-


	4. Dokuhebi's Party

Yes, it is a miracle.

I finally decided to update.

Finally.

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.

* * *

As soon as I stepped into the corridor on my way to my locker, I knew that it was going to be a bad day.

I was used to being ignored—sure it wasn't exactly a dream come true, but it meant that no one had any reason to cause me harm. It may have been miserable and boring, but at least it was peaceful. Now, however, I was constantly surrounded by people who hated me and wouldn't hesitate to tear me apart limb by limb if given the chance. I couldn't count the times I was tripped, hit and even spat at just in that short walk to my locker.

"Hinata?" Kiba was standing by his own locker, his eyes radiating with concern as he saw me approach.

"Hi, Kiba." I replied with a sigh. Gingerly brushing the bits of sandwich from my hair—one of the jealous fangirls had seen my humiliation as being more important than eating her lunch—I opened my locker to pull out the required books. As soon as the door opened a shower of hate letters fluttered to the ground. My school photo was taped to one of the metal walls, showing me with my eyes cut out and red texta—which I assumed was supposed to resemble blood—pouring from my ears and mouth. With growing dread I checked my books for signs of abuse and nearly cried when I turned the pages of my Politics exercise book; for someone had covered every page with the word 'FREAK'.

"What's that smell?" Kiba asked, his nose wrinkling, "That's disgusting."

Yes; it did smell disgusting. And yes; whatever it was, it was emanating from my locker.

I didn't bother to check what it was.

At that moment a shriek filled the air, accompanied by a voice I recognised as belonging to Ino. Kiba and I exchanged a worried look and hurried down the corridor. Ino had a habit of being hot-tempered, which more often than not meant she found herself in rather tricky situations—situations where, if she didn't have the adorable puppy look down to a science and a punch that could make Mt Everest crumble to the ground, she probably would have died a long time ago.

"CRAWL BACK INTO THE HOLE YOU CAME FROM, FOREHEAD!!" the blonde was screaming, a small trickle of blood on her cheek as she yanked at her classmate's hair.

Sakura, the recipient of her attack, replied with a chorus of scratching nails and kicking feet. "NOT BEFORE YOU'RE REDUCED TO THE SCUM YOU ALWAYS WERE, INO-PIG!!" was her screeching reply.

I cringed and flinched and covered my eyes with my hands as the fight escalated—I had never been a big fan of violence and seeing one of my friends covered in scratches and bruises made bile rise in my throat.

"APOLOGISE!!!"

"NEVER!!"

"SHE'S DONE NOTHING TO YOU, HAS SHE?!!"

"ARE YOU KIDDING?!! SHE STOLE THE ONE THING THAT I'VE ALWAYS CHERISHED ABOVE EVERYTHING ELSE!!"

"STOLE HIM?!! **STOLE HIM?!!! **ARE YOU RETARDED?!! DID IT COMPLETELY ESCAPE YOUR NOTICE THAT SHE **SLAPPED HIM ACROSS THE FACE**?!!"

A small gasp escaped my throat. I was the reason they were fighting. Me; Hinata Hyuuga. Because of me, Ino and Sakura were both hurt. The very thought made it a physical effort to keep breathing.

More blows were exchanged, with all attacks increasing in ferocity and intensity. I wanted to run out, to scream at them to stop—anything to cease the pain they were both inflicting. I wanted to _do _something.

Instead I cowered behind my hands; cringing and turning away as each punch and kick made contact with its intended target.

That was me. Hinata Hyuuga, the coward.

"That's enough."

At one point during the fight I must have covered my eyes with my hands, because when I turned to the speaker I saw them through the slits between each finger. Even with such a limited view, I had to admit that his entire being emanated power—even though he wasn't particularly tall, he seemed to stand far higher than any other in the corridor. His dark eyes, narrowed in annoyance, turned from Ino to Sakura in an obvious show of disapproval.

And beside him stood Naruto, in all of his shining glory. He, unlike Sasuke, had not yet fully grasped the situation and was looking around with confusion.

"Sakura? What's going on?"

Sakura's arms, which moments ago had been yanking at Ino's hair, quickly unravelled themselves from her classmate's golden tresses; reaching confidently for Sasuke's hands. Incoherent apologies rolled off her tongue as she grasped his hands in hers, bright emerald eyes wide and begging for forgiveness. Sasuke's face remained passive throughout the entire display, although he was quick to remove himself from Sakura's grasp.

As all of this panned out I found myself looking at Naruto. He had never been able to display Sasuke's nonchalance—his face always appeared like an open book, emotions expressed as clear as day in his smiles and glistening blue eyes.

When Sakura ran to Sasuke Naruto's reaction was obvious—he just… lost his sparkle. If everyone hadn't already been staring at the pink-haired teen and her crush then they wouldn't have missed the way he flinched at their contact; his eyes closed as though in pain. They wouldn't have missed the way his lips pursed in a grimace. They would have seen the way his golden locks, usually so awe-worthy and handsome, suddenly became a curtain between his eyes and the couple before him.

I noticed.

I always noticed.

Always.

It broke my heart to see Naruto like this. He was one of the kindest, sweetest people I knew—none deserved happiness like Naruto. And the one person who could give him that happiness? She was gushing over his best friend; not caring the least for his feelings even though it was clear that his heart was breaking.

I usually made a point of being open minded about people. I prided myself on looking at what was inside a person's heart rather than their looks; seeing past the external flaws to see the golden attributes people could offer. The very thought of hating anyone—even the girls who tripped and elbowed me in the corridors—made me feel somewhat ill.

And yet I couldn't help but feel angry at the beautiful girl before me because, despite the smarts she so obviously displayed in each of her classes, her unrequited love for Sasuke had rendered her incapable of seeing the splendour of what was before her.

Returning from my reverie, my eyes met with the stony onyx gaze I knew only one person to possess—the one and only Tsukikage was staring straight at me. Sakura must have noticed too, because her mouth had turned down at the corners into a small frown of jealousy.

"Next time you two decide you're bored and begin throwing punches at each other, take it outside. You're blocking the corridors." The Uchiha said coolly. I blushed and looked down at the floor, but I could still feel the heat of his gaze burning into my flesh. The crowd around me began to dissipate and I moved with the rest of the students eagerly; receiving more than a couple rough elbows to the side and back as I went. Kiba and Ino quickly joined me, fending off most of the offenders with sharp glares and silent threats.

"Are you okay, Ino?" Kiba asked.

Ino grinned. "Oh, I'm fine—great, actually. Did you see the look on that witch's face?" she laughed and then turned to me, a broad smile assuring me of her content. "Hinata, if that snooty airhead ever bothers you again, let me be the first to know. I am _so _ready for round two!"

Kiba laughed aloud at her enthusiasm, but I only offered a failed attempt at a smile and turned my eyes to the floor. What kind of a ghastly person would allow their friends to work as shields; taking the bullets intended for that person? What kind of person would let those friends get hurt and alienated by everyone else, all because of that person's woes and misgivings?

Me; that's who.

Hinata Hyuuga, the coward.

-

-

One of the librarians had let slip that I liked to sit by myself down one of the aisles. This wouldn't have been such a big deal if the person she had told hadn't been the murderous Karin.

Suddenly I found my favourite haunt overrun by fangirls; all eager for my blood. There was no point, anyway. The constant fear for my life had affected my ability to draw and now I could do little but make little squiggles in the margins of my new Politics exercise book.

Karin continued to make her displeasure known in every way possible, with every opportunity she got. Threatening notes were slipped to me regularly during class and I could always feel her malicious aura following me down the halls between classes, waiting for the chance to strike. What little respect I had amongst my fellow classmates had completely disintegrated by the end of the week—Karin was an avid gossiper and wasted no time at all in using her wicked tongue to her advantage. Tales of an obscenely erotic love life and multiple sex buddies soon became associated with my name. I heard whispers of drug and alcohol abuse; even of hitting and screaming at my younger sister.

It didn't take long for word to reach Neji's ears. He was angry—furious, to say the least—and threatened all involved with the disgraceful rumours with loss of reputation. Many backed off after that—after all; Neji was quite popular at Konoha High. No one wanted to get on his bad side.

But although his rage was inflicted upon those bullying me, I couldn't help but feel that part of his anger was still directed at myself. What little time we spent together was filled with tense silence—half of the time he wouldn't even look at me.

And what of Sasuke? I honestly didn't have a clue. He hated me, of course—it was only natural to hate the person who punches you in the face in the middle of Chemistry class—but then why was he acting so strangely? He was constantly there, following like a shadow at every opportunity that presented itself. His constant appearances did not go unnoticed, for a large crowd of smitten fangirls always tailed after him; their lovesick squeals and sighs audible all throughout the school. Often Sakura could be found glued to his arm, a smug smile on her face as she relished in the jealous glares I so often shrunk away from. But I knew the true feelings behind that confident smirk. Sakura was worried—threatened, I suppose, by my supposed involvement in her Tsukikage's life.

Too often I glanced behind me to find his eyes, dark and ominous in their nestled spot between long lashes, staring straight back into mine with an intensity that completely terrified me. He was planning something.

Whatever it was, I knew I wasn't going to like it.

After Neji dropped me off at home—a task performed without a single word being spoken—I hastily made my way upstairs to my room, not pausing to draw air until I was safely shut away in my room. A sudden wave of exhaustion engulfed me and I sank to the floor, throwing my bag beside me so I could rest my back against the door; my solitary barrier protecting me from the rest of the world.

If only such a barrier existed at school.

I don't know how long I sat there on the floor, silent tears rolling down my cheeks, hugging my legs to my chest in a piteous attempt at keeping myself from falling apart. Eventually the tears stopped, drying until they were nothing but salty trails weaving down my face. My rear had gone numb, as had my legs, which soon became covered in goose bumps due to the cold air. Yet despite all of these discomforts I didn't move. It was as though all my strength was gone, leaving my body limp and lifeless, rendering me unable to move a single muscle. I was drained; completely and utterly _empty. _If you had cut my brain open and tipped it upside down, you wouldn't obtain a single drop of thought or emotion. At least, that's what it felt like.

I must have fallen asleep at some point, because I was woken by an impatient knocking from the opposite side of my door. When I didn't answer the knocker tried to push it open, successfully knocking me over in the process.

So much for a barrier. I had been a fool to assume my door could protect me from the outside world; especially from the likes of my father.

His eyes, cold as always, scanned the room and took in the strange scene without a word while I stumbled to my feet in an attempt to scrounge my remaining dignity. It was hard to stand at attention when I was still exhausted and sore.

"We are expected at the Dokuhebi tea party in little over an hour," he told her in his usual hard monotone, "The maids are here. Get dressed and meet me in the foyer."

And with that he was gone, two women appearing in the doorway. They did not wait for an invitation as they stepped into my room, grabbing me and pulling the school uniform from my body with the gentleness and care of a lion ripping the meat from a dead animal's carcass. The rough fabric of my kimono was uncomfortable and itchy, not to mention that the sheer weight of it all was enough to make me stagger backwards in surprise. Yet the real pain did not begin until the sash—almost two hands wide, lavender in colour to match my eyes—was secured around my waist. The women, it seemed, had decided they would not be satisfied until they had crushed all of my ribs into a fine powder. They tugged and pulled and heaved until I was gasping for air, my fingers curling at the agony around my waist area.

"Stand up straight." The elder of the two women commanded and I complied, rolling back my shoulders and raising my chin just as my etiquette teachers had taught me. It made it a little easier to breathe, I suppose, but not by much. And the weight of the kimono made me feel unbalanced, which for someone clumsy, like me, was not a good thing.

They began working on my hair; tugging and pulling and scratching my scalp with combs until my head felt as raw as grated cheese. A traditional knot was formed atop my head, made intricate by several plaits entwining themselves with the bun. No time was wasted before they moved onto makeup and I tried desperately not to sneeze as they coated my already pale face in white powder. The red lipstick was too thick and tasted terrible; almost as terrible as the reeking perfume that followed.

"Done." The other woman announced, her voice touched with pride as she turned me to face the mirror positioned on my wall. One look confirmed what I already knew—I felt like a clown and I looked just like one, too.

The kimono was made to suit thin, delicate little people; like my sister, Hanabi. Unfortunately my body was not thin or delicate. My waist may have been normal in proportion, but my bust and hips extended far past that of my sister; giving me a body that stuck out awkwardly at all angles rather than the smoother, more subtle curves my sister had been blessed with. Beneath the heavy fabric, my body looked square and _fat_.

I turned my eyes to my face, horrified at the sight that greeted me. The red lipstick, I was sure, was supposed to give me a regal, more majestic look. Instead it clashed terribly with my pale eyes and made my complexion look gaunt, even under the tonne of make up—all of which made me look even more like a clown.

No wonder my father hated me.

Despite my distress, I managed a smile and thanked the two ladies; both of whom brushed past me without a second glance. I paused to take a breath before following them outside to the foyer, where my family was waiting.

-

-

Orochimaru Dokuhebi was a renowned worldwide for three things—money, power and homosexuality. He was also known for his sleazy nature and to show a certain cruelty to his enemies that bordered on insanity; not exactly the kind of man you wanted to get on your bad side. Yet the benefits of befriending such a powerful figure must have outweighed the negatives, for many—my father included—were attending his party that night.

The event had been labelled as 'a small gathering—just a few colleagues, sharing a small meal together'. Of course, that was hardly the case with Orochimaru Dokuhebi. I counted at least two hundred people in the large and spacious dining hall; chatting away over glasses of wine and champagne. And yet as soon as I walked in I knew I wasn't going to fit in with any of them.

My father had picked up Neji on the way to the Dokuhebi household and, much to my dismay, he still wasn't talking to me. As soon as we entered the dining room he brushed past me and made his way to the nearest group, ready to mingle with the people. My heart sank. Usually he stayed close to me, ensuring that I didn't feel alone or out of place. I could follow him, I supposed, but I lacked his ability to walk in and instantaneously join a conversation and the idea of following an angry Neji around all night did not sound appealing.

In the end I stayed in the dining room for only a couple of minutes; long enough to count as an appearance. No one would miss me—I doubted even my father noticed as I slipped back outside and crossed the pristine green lawn, past the smokers and people talking on cell phones until I reached the shade of a great willow tree; far enough that it was secluded, but not out of range of the lights, so I could still see my surroundings. It was perfect.

I sighed and leaned against its rough bark, wishing I could sit down and rest my tired legs. Getting dirt on my kimono was, of course, a definite no-no—my father would be furious if its pristine condition was marred by a single spot.

"I thought you'd be here."

I stiffened, immediately recognising and cringing at the familiar voice. Suddenly my perfect hiding spot didn't seem half as perfect anymore. Yet I was so tired… far too tired to feel embarrassed. Even with Sasuke Uchiha staring at me; his eyes, as usual, completely unreadable.

"You're the heiress to Hyuuga Corps." He stated, his voice flat.

It wasn't really a question, so I couldn't give him a proper answer. Instead I turned my eyes to the grass, waiting for the insults and threats that would surely follow.

Sasuke didn't disappoint.

"Did you honestly believe that just because you're an heiress you can treat someone like _me _with contempt?" He snorted, as though the idea was so tremendously preposterous that even a block of ice like him could find it hilarious. I guess this statement was supposed to hurt me, but I was still too exhausted to care.

My silence didn't deter him. He pressed on, his voice lowered to a hiss. "You know if I wanted to, I could have the entire school out for your blood within seconds. All it would take would be a word in the right ear and then…" he clicked his fingers in conclusion and I could almost see that smirk hovering on his lips, even with my back turned to him.

He was right, of course. He was the almighty, all-powerful Tsukikage. The entire student body would do anything, _anything _to help him, no matter what the consequence.

But the idea really wasn't all that scary. Or maybe it was just that his fangirls were already plotting my death. Whatever it was, I found myself more interested in keeping up my constricted breathing. Dark spots were appearing in my vision—clearly not a good sign.

Suddenly there was hot breath at my ear and I leaned away, startled. When had he moved so close?

"It's dangerous, you know; being enemies with a Uchiha," he whispered huskily, his voice laced with steel. "Not smart at all, especially when I hold the secret you so desperately wish to contain."

Naruto. He was going to tell Naruto my secret. I tried to rouse the correct amount of anxiety and fear, but for some reason I couldn't. What was going on?

He paused for a moment as he waited for a reply and then continued, his breath still hot on my neck. "I wonder what he'll think when I tell him… just another fangirl, probably. No different from all the others. That idiot can't turn away from that annoying, squealing pink-haired brat long enough to notice anyone else. You'll become just another nutcase in a box crammed full of nutcases; the box we call Konoha High."

A dull pain filled my chest, but my brain was so sluggish that it didn't actually register—I was supposed to be upset, but why wasn't it working?

"Well?" Sasuke prodded. I turned to look at him; staring straight into his eyes with my own equally emotionless gaze, although mine was derived from exhaustion whereas his came naturally.

"Okay."

We stared at one another, his expression incredulous. "Okay? _Okay_? What do you mean, okay?"

But I couldn't give him any reply, because I had used what little energy I had on those two syllables. Now I fell forward, falling until he managed to catch my limp body. The last thing I saw was his eyes, flashing with a strange emotion that looked almost like… _concern_. Then everything went black.

-

-

The following day I found myself back in the torturous place more commonly known as school, midst the glares and whispers of my fellow students. After everything that had happened the previous night I had expected things to change—I have no idea what exactly, but at least _something. _But no one seemed to know of the proceedings at Dokuhebi's party. It was definitely a relief, but also quite confusing.

If Sasuke's intention was to make my life miserable, which I was 99.99% positive it was, why not just tell the entire school of my fainting spell, ensuring my humiliation and total embarrassment? It didn't make any sense.

Yet again, when it came to Sasuke Uchiha, nothing ever made all that much sense.

Like how I had been found by my family lying in the car, unconscious, at the end of the night with no idea how I got there; struggling to think of a legible excuse in my dizzy, exhausted state. Luckily no one was really listening to my explanation, for none of them really cared what I did as long as I didn't make a fool of myself.

Talking to anyone about the event was impossible. Kiba and Shino both balked at the very mention of Sasuke's name, Shikamaru was so lazy that I would struggle to get a one-word response, Ino wouldn't be able to keep herself from spreading the juicy piece of gossip and Temari… well… she was still practically a stranger. And so, like always, I kept my mouth shut.

I was musing over all this on my way back from Politics as Ino chattered away about the new pair of shoes she had bought. As I opened my locker, as I pieced my way through the growing mound of hate mail, something caught my eye. There, nestled between one of my mutilated exercise books and a rather graphic drawing of my bloody death, was a single red rose; slight squashed but beautiful all the same. It struck me as peculiar to see something so ravishing in such a twisted, hate-filled place as my locker. Who had left it? Why had they left it? Was it some kind of joke, or did it really mean something?

I fingered the delicate petals for a moment before slipping it back inside, shutting the locker door quietly behind me, a small smile on my face. Who and why no longer mattered—joke or not, I didn't care. There was a flower in my locker; a beautiful flower.

For now, that was enough.

* * *

Please R and R!! I'd really appreciate it :D


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